


and we will all the pleasures prove

by j_gabrielle



Series: Spite Series [4]
Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Secret Relationship, Sibling Incest, Siblings, Vague Oxfordian AU?, self-indulgent writing, soft fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-29 06:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17197994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: Orm clasps his hand, pressing it to his lips. Heart beating wildly in his chest when Arthur does the same. He cannot bring himself to care for who sees them. He loves this man. He loves him with every part of him, and the world should know it.





	and we will all the pleasures prove

**Author's Note:**

> a.k.a. Spite Fic No. 4

They walk together. Tightly pressed arm to fingertips, hip too hip. Stealing looks every other minute, smiling when their eyes meet. Their foot steps fall in time with each other like a slow march in the summer twilight, drawing out the path to the station.

It had been a wonderful afternoon; Arthur had called ahead to tell him that he was coming up to see him, so Orm had prepared a little picnic and had taken him to the river where they watched the clouds, lying side by side on the grass like no time had passed between Orm leaving home for University and Arthur taking on an apprenticeship at the bank. But not a day goes by that Orm does not miss his big brother, and looking into Arthur's eyes confirms that it is the same for him too.

"Is there someone?" Arthur had asked after they had shared half a bottle of warm wine between them. Orm shakes his head, turning on his side. He has his shirt undone, hair in disarray, but he does not care a whit about that. He's only with Arthur.

"Is there someone?" He echoes the question. Arthur mirrors his position, propping himself up on an arm. 

"One. There's only ever been one person."

Orm swallows, mouth run dry. He exhales in a rush, dropping his gaze to the top button of Arthur's shirt. His Sunday best. The one they had gone out to have a matching set tailor made one Autumn. Orm is sure that if he looked under the collar, he'd find the embroidery of a Mandarin duck that is a twin to the one under his own. They had had paid quite a sum for it to be done discreetly and speedily, but it was money well spent.

Arthur's hand finds his, and it is a thrill to be touching him like this out under God's blue sky and in the light of day. They had tried fighting it, in the beginning, playing a push and pull game that was neither of them giving up nor giving in at the same time, until eventually, they both allowed themselves to drown at a distance from each other. One now only connected by a bridge of letters written in their secret language, bits of poetry, pressed flowers, little things from each other's lives that reminded them.

Orm lifts the press of their palms to rest between them. He closes his eyes and pushes his nose to the back of Arthur's hand, content to commit this moment to memory. Eventually he feels Arthur do the same, and he smiles. His Arthur is still his. The happiness is playing on the alcohol running rampant in his veins. His Arthur. There is no one else.

They talk a little. Touched a lot. Polished off the rest of wine. Orm fills Arthur in about school, while Arthur tells him about the bank and how he is making a good enough impression on Lord Vulko that he thinks he might be able to start making good money come spring. Arthur talks about his lodgings, and they agree that Orm will come to stay when he is back for Christmas. 

"Have you given any thought to what I'd said in my last letter?" Arthur had asked, fingertips dancing on the crest of his cheek. 

Orm slowly blinks his eyes open. "Yes." He replies.

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Orm inches a finger under Arthur's collar, gently touching the stitching there. "And if these pleasures may thee move," He murmurs, breath stuttering when Arthur thumbs at the corner of his lips. He tastes the salt and wine on his skin. Eyes looking up to the handsome face of his brother. 

"Come live with me, and be my love." Arthur finishes it for him. Orm shuffles himself closer, draping an arm over Arthur's ribs. Smiling, they meet in the middle in a kiss. Soft, chaste. Parting after a moment as if to test the air. Once satisfied with what they have found, they meet again. Sweeter, slowly, a lover's reunion.

"I'll wait. I will wait for you. However long it will take for us to be together again." Arthur whispers between kisses. "I will wait for us."

Orm inhales, laughing quietly. Running his fingers through Arthur's hair again, cradling him by the base of his skull. "My Arthur."

They lose the rest of the afternoon to hushed conversation weaving pictures of a life with each other. They lie in each other's arms. Enjoying the sunshine until the sun dips lower and lower in the sky, and Arthur kisses him one last time. "I have to go."

And so they walk. Side by side. A big part of him itches to touch again, but he knows he shouldn't. Not here, not yet. There will be time for more. They have a lifetime for that.

Orm waits with Arthur on the empty platform. Under the warm glow of the lights, they sit on the bench with the peeling paintwork. Thighs pressed together, shoulders and elbows connected. Eventually, Orm reaches over to adjusts Arthur's collar for him. Brushing out any stray petals or grass that linger, righting him. "There." He whispers once he is satisfied.

"There." Arthur replies softly, hand on Orm's shoulder. Giving in to a momentary surge of affection, he sweeps in, kissing him deep. 

They break apart when a group of men and women arrive on the platform. Not quite able to hide the pleased upturned corners of their lips even if they are acting nonchalant. The train comes too soon, and when Arthur pulls him in for a hug, Orm clings on. Soaking in every bit of him for as long as he can. Christmas isn't too far away, but it's still too long to go.

"I'll write. Tomorrow."

"So will I."

Arthur climbs onto the carriage, throwing open the window the moment he finds his seat, reaching out for a farewell. Orm clasps his hand, pressing it to his lips. Heart beating wildly in his chest when Arthur does the same. He cannot bring himself to care for who sees them. He loves this man. He loves him with every part of him, and the world should know it. The whistle sounds, the train moves. Orm follows for as much as he can before he has to let go. He keeps his eyes on Arthur's until he is too far to see.

**Author's Note:**

> The bit of poetry they exchange and the title is from ['The Passionate Shepherd to His Lover' by Christopher Marlowe](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44675/the-passionate-shepherd-to-his-love)
> 
> [I have a Tumblr (For whatever that is worth these days)](http://www.randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com)  
> \--  
> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
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> 
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> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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